Strange and divers currents brought us to this time, this place, as mouth and hook collide. A moment of impulsive instinct, sating my hunger, and I am lifted into the alien air. I remember the panic, the struggling, and then I felt the pride and tenderness of the hands that cradled me in the… Read More Caught
The willow weeps for us all in moments of loss, moments that drift out of reach, slip from our hands, like the tethers of the narrow boats as they leave their moorings While so long ago you and I were already lost, an embrace by the tow-path, a canal-side tryst, a betrayal of trust, and… Read More For Whom the Willow Weeps
It is not easy trying to photograph a bee. Its flutter speed is faster than my shutter speed, and I end up photographing not where the bee is being but where it has been.
A little thought experiment. Imagine your last night in a foreign city. How do you feel? Where will you go? What would you like your lasting memory of this place to be? Cityscapes, streets streaked with the reflections of a thousand lights, many leading to parts of the city you did not have time to… Read More Last Nights in Foreign Cities
Little Poems in a Big Pond 